william tucker - Pangolin London

WILLIAM TUCKER
UNEARTHING THE FIGURE
WILLIAM TUCKER
UNEARTHING THE FIGURE
3
INTRODUCTION
Leonidas
1995, Bronze
Edition of 3
201 x 292 x 140 cm
4
From a distance, we see awkward sculptural objects, shaped by an unknown
agent: perhaps natural forces, perhaps human hands. As we draw nearer, we
begin to make out bodily forms: the rough shape of a head; part of a limb;
an arching back and the swellings of buttocks; a hand with partially clenched
fingers and thumb. And then, closer still, these forms dissolve again, as we
lose ourselves in the bumps and dips of these objects’ surfaces, and take in the
weight of their materials.
William Tucker’s figurative sculptures have sometimes been seen as
primordial forms, fashioned from base matter, inchoate lumps of stuff
provoking a visceral response. The artist’s use of titles, which often refer to
figures from classical mythology, has enhanced such readings. Dore Ashton, in
her essay to accompany the exhibition of five of Tucker’s bronzes shown at the
Tate Gallery in 1987, elaborated upon this connection: ‘In their ancient titles,
in their very shape, they tell of Tucker’s will to pull up full-bodied presences
from a consecrated clay that offers timeless resistance’.1 In an account like this,
Tucker is engaged in a struggle with natural forces, seeking to reanimate the
mud beneath our feet, squeezed into solid masses which begin to resemble bits
of bodies: heads, feet, torsos, hands. Their fragmentary and rough appearance
suggests archaeological remains and ruins. It could even evoke the weathered
residues of public statuary, like the worn and battered Roman-style heads
surrounding the Sheldonian Theatre in Oxford that Tucker remembered from his
undergraduate days as a History student there in the 1950s, once described by
Betjeman as ‘mouldering busts’.2
Tucker’s early and ongoing interest in the histories and pre-histories of
sculpture was implied, as has often been pointed out, by the cover he created
for the magazine First in 1961 at St Martin’s School of Art, which used a
photograph of his hand holding a cast copy of the Venus of Willendorf, a cover
which was subsequently reproduced in Studio International in 1969. At the time,
Tucker was engaged in making sculpture that was predominantly abstract and
constructed, mainly in steel, wood and fibreglass. The Venus of Willendorf, then
thought of as the ‘first’ sculpture, seemed to serve a talismanic purpose, gently
cradled in Tucker’s palm like a tiny newborn creature, rather than being actively
manipulated. As Tucker’s work shifted towards a more explicit figuration in
the 1980s onwards, his earlier student presentation of this prehistoric figurine
seemed prescient, a foretaste not only of the figure’s centrality to his
5
sculpture, but also of the archaeological metaphors it engendered. The artist has
recently returned to this imagery in his yellow Monoprint of a hand gripping a small
figure, which has a much more urgent and forceful feel than the earlier photograph:
a figurine which is now unidentifiable is obscured by the large thumb in particular,
rather than presented for show.
Tucker’s figurative sculptures, however, are both universalising and archaising,
but also decidedly contemporary, reflecting the tensions and energies of sculpturemaking in the late 20th and early 21st centuries. The ideas and associations outlined
above are not all that they seem in the artist’s work, whose reality is much more
ambiguous and complex. If we think we know what Tucker’s sculptures are about,
they continue to be elusive presences, deliberately challenging our preconceptions
about their making and meaning and our notions of what sculpture can and
should be.
In particular, Tucker’s figuration sets up a fascinating interplay between perception
and touch. Many of his recent sculptures and two-dimensional works articulate
and thematise the role of touch through the representation of hands, which are
sometimes configured in partially clenched or cupped positions, as in Secret and
Void. The artist has made a statement about the ways in which the Willendorf Venus
enabled this in his work:
...the wholeness of the Venus of Willendorf is experienced internally, in the hand
which holds and enfolds it...The relation of the whole object to the enclosing hand
suggests a scale of relationships for sculpture from the pinch of finger and thumb
through the grasp of the hand, the embrace of one or both arms, to the walked and
implied embrace of the whole body around the object.3
This tactile impulse is both conceptual and literal. Tucker’s bronzes engage our
senses of sight and touch in sophisticated ways. Their size is often imposing and
unsettling, as body parts are enlarged to new proportions and not to scale.
A sculpture like Secret references the forms of the hand, but is not hand-sized.
But close to, the hand-made quality of these sculptures becomes apparent, and
although their surfaces are at times rough and unforgiving, they nevertheless
intrigue and attract our own touch. At the same time, their sheer visual and
material presence keeps them at one remove from us. Tucker throughout his career
has stressed the role of sculptural autonomy: the presence of his sculptures as
discrete objects. His figurative works do not depart from this, as they are not
‘relational’ in the sense of actual bodily engagement with them, but still maintain
their function as things set apart, their own internal ‘wholeness’ requiring
no spectatorial intervention to animate and activate them.
6
The Sculptor 7
2011, Monotype
Unique
38 x 28 cm
The surfaces of Tucker’s sculptures are one of their most compelling and perplexing
features. If we imagine ancient forms of object-making, we might think of the
working of a stone or stick to bring out its anthropomorphic or zoomorphic qualities,
using any fortuitous protuberances to suggest features or limbs, in a gradual process
of smoothing or streamlining the natural material. When bronze is used in different
ancient contexts it provides smooth surfaces – for weapons or bells – and crisp
detailing to suggest refinement. Tucker’s works challenge these ideas, presenting
us with deliberately rough, lumpy and pitted surfaces. We have the overwhelming
impression that these sculptures have no skin: that the natural barrier that separates
(and protects) one body from another is missing. The phenomenology of Maurice
Merleau-Ponty, an important inspiration for Tucker, uses precisely this imagery of the
absent skin to evoke an encounter between subject and object which takes into
account their physical presence and interrelationship.
The artist often points to the crucial inspiration for him of the Riace bronzes, pulled
from the Calabrian sea in the 1970s, two bronze statues of naked bearded warriors,
7
(left)
Secret
2010, Bronze
Edition of 3
133 x 183 x 117 cm
(above left)
Riace Bronzes
460 - 420 BC
(above right)
Void
2005, Bronze
Edition of 4
68 x 68 x 102 cm
8
which are striking for the elaborate configuration of their hair and facial hair,
and for the precision of their details: calcite eyes, silver teeth, copper lips.
Any extraneous detail of hair, facial features or clothing is kept vague in Tucker’s
‘portrait’ heads. He eschews such references, preferring to keep his heads and work
in general at the threshold of legibility: what he once called ‘a familiarity that resists
recognition’.4 The origins of the Riace bronzes do, however, suggest another
intriguing set of associations to which Tucker’s sculptures could be related: their
appearance as encrusted, underwater relics, whose once recognisable features have
been obscured with layers of sand (an effect of the graininess of the plaster used for
the sculptures’ models) and marine accretions. In this reading, his bronzes are pulled
not from the earth, but from the sea.
Tucker has revealed some of the hidden layers of meaning inherent in his series of
sculptures based on heads. Some of these are hinted at by the works’ titles, such as
Sleeping Musician, which refers to Brancusi’s Sleeping Muse (1909-10). Where
Brancusi’s sculpture presents a smooth, highly polished and reflective bronze ovoid
‘head’ lying on its side, its features reduced to a couple of elegant, schematic lines,
and its proportions roughly those of the human head, Tucker’s Sleeping Musician is an
over-sized, craggy and roughly wrought mass of solid bronze. In Brancusi’s sculpture,
the muse/musician is evoked through the purity and implied resonance of the hollow
skin of the work: Tucker challenges and rejects this lightness and brightness,
absorbing and internalising light and weight. Bibi is named after a male model used
by Rodin for his Man with the Broken Nose (1865), a man living in poverty with a
9
battered face. Rodin’s sculpture, made of raw clay, split apart during a cold
winter and survived only as a mask, a fragment. This gives an added poignancy to the
squashed and dislocated appearance of Tucker’s rendering of Bibi, barely readable as
a face at all, and bearing all the marks of the artist’s ‘acceptance of the awkward,
the ugly and disfigured’ in Rodin’s work.5
These art historical references in Tucker’s heads have been overlaid additionally
with more personal recollections, as they have connected in his own mind with
memories from his own experience. Bibi, then, carries for the artist associations
of a friend from the past who died tragically:
...the head that had first caught my attention in its resemblance to the ‘Man with
the Broken Nose’, was also becoming H.R., a friend from student days at Oxford, who
stayed on for years trying to pass his final exams, unable to concentrate because he
could not sleep; and who in a few years was to die of an undiagnosed brain disease.6
Tucker’s layering of memories of a death that touched him onto his sculpture’s
bodily presences is inevitably reminiscent of Giacometti’s accounts of the ways in
which experiences of dead bodies of friends and acquaintances, and particularly their
heads, informed his sculpture. For Giacometti, the terrifying moment of the human
head becoming an object, a ‘black box’, was particularly significant, and would
continue to have a bearing on his perception and sculptural articulation of the
human figure.
Giacometti is clearly an important sculptor for Tucker’s figurative work, having
made a similar shift from constructed and frame-based earlier objects to sculptures
based primarily on human figures, and working also with ideas of touch and
perception. His techniques are significant too, as Giacometti, like Tucker, often used
plaster as a modelling medium. For Tucker this material is crucial, and distances him
once again from myths of the primordial maker, whose matter would normally be
clay. Tucker prefers the speed and transformative properties of plaster as a working
material. Moving from a liquid to a solid state, plaster, for the artist, is a bit like
bronze, and working in it ‘is the closest you can get to working directly in bronze,
while keeping a flexibility and control that would be impossible with the hot metal’.7
By using plaster as the modelling material for his bronzes, Tucker also exploits the
associations of fragility and vulnerability that are written into his sculptures, which
often have a deliberate provisionality about their rough and quickly-worked surfaces,
held in a striking tension with their ‘finished’ bronze volumes.
Contradictions like these are central to Tucker’s oeuvre, and situate his work firmly
in a vein of contemporary sculptural exploration and inquiry. His sculptures lie
stubbornly at a point where figurative meanings and mute objects meet. In a
little-known piece of writing from 1957 about the differences between sculpture and
10
Sleeping Musician
1998, Bronze
Edition of 6
29 x 43 x 33 cm
11
industrial objects, Giacometti provided an interesting gloss on the sculptural
fragment which can shed light on Tucker’s ambivalent works. For Giacometti, a
broken Egyptian or Chaldean sculpture always remains a sculpture, its fragments
creating a series of new sculptures in themselves, while a broken car reverts to scrap
metal. What can become, he asks, of ‘a Brancusi sculpture or any other so-called
abstract sculptures that are rusty, dented, broken...? Do they belong to the same
world as Chaldean sculpture, as Rodin...or to a separate world of machines and
objects?’8 Perhaps we could also imagine what would become of a Brancusi head lost
beneath the waves of the sea, its once-smooth forms now lumpy, encrusted, closer to
the imperfections of human flesh than before, closer to Tucker’s world of ambiguous
figuration.
Tucker’s body parts are both subject and object simultaneously, with neither
position prevailing. While inviting engagement and interpretation, they also resist
this. But they are also neither found things nor objects, neither industrial forms nor
hand-crafted commodities. Their fragmentary nature does create a proliferation, as
Giacometti would have it, of further sculptures, a sense of continuing and unending
sculptural endeavour. In this regard, their layers of allusions and references to
sculptural tradition and personal memory come together to point to the future, as
well as the past, and their figurative impulses, there to be revealed and uncovered,
also drive a process of reconfiguration and reinvention.
JULIA KELLY
FOOTNOTES
Dore Ashton, ‘William Tucker’s Aspiration’, in William Tucker, Gods: Five Recent Sculptures, London: Tate Gallery, 1987, p. 8.
2
Tucker’s recollection of these is cited in Joy Sleeman, The Sculpture of William Tucker,
Aldershot: Lund Humphries, 2007, pp. 22-23.
3
Statement by Tucker in William Tucker, “Horses”, Rome: L’Isola, 1987, np.
4
Ashton, ‘William Tucker’, in William Tucker, Wakefield: Yorkshire Sculpture Park, 2001, p. 11
The phrase was originally Phillip King’s.
5
William Tucker, “Horses”, np.
6
Sleeman, p. 22.
7
“Conversation held between William Tucker and Brett Ballard, New York State 1991-93”, in
William Tucker: The Philosophers, Sculpture and Drawings 1989-1992, London: Maak Gallery, 1993, np.
8
Alberto Giacometti, “La voiture demythifiée”, in Ecrits, Paris: Hermann, 1990, p. 80
(Julia Kelly’s translation).
1
Bibi
1997, Bronze
Edition of 6
41 x 31 x 36 cm
12
13
CATALOGUE
14
15
Leonidas was enlarged from a more recently unearthed studio fragment, more of a
sliver than a lump... many viewers have seen it as an immense foot, but for me it
suggested rather the torso and thighs of a wounded male figure, perhaps a memory
of ‘The Dying Gaul’ (the title comes from the betrayed sculptor Leonidas Allori in Isak
Dinesen’s story The Cloak).
WILLIAM TUCKER
The Sculpture of William Tucker, Joy Sleeman, 2007
(left)
Leonidas
1995, Bronze
Edition of 3
201 x 292 x 140 cm
(previous page)
Sleeping Musician (detail)
1998, Bronze
Edition of 6
29 x 43 x 33 cm
16
17
The Sculptor 4
2011, Monotype
Unique
38 x 28 cm
18
19
Secret
2010, Bronze
Edition of 3
133 x 183 x 117 cm
20
21
The Good Soldier
1997, Bronze
Edition of 6
25 x 52 x 23 cm
22
23
(LEFT)
Void
2005, Bronze
Edition of 4
68 x 68 x 102 cm
(RIGHT)
Study for Void
2004, Bronze
Edition of 6
10 x 16.5 x 11 cm
24
25
The Sculptor 14
2011, Monotype
Unique
38 x 28 cm
26
The Sculptor 2
2011, Monotype
Unique
38 x 28 cm
27
Study for Odalisque
2008, Bronze
Edition of 4
71 x 115 x 59 cm
28
29
Study for Bibi
1998, Charcoal on Paper
Unique
107.3 x 91.4 cm
30
31
Bibi
1997, Bronze
Edition of 6
41 x 31 x 36 cm
32
33
Study for Little Jeanne
1998, Charcoal on Paper
Unique
107.3 x 91.4 cm
34
Study for A Poet of Our Time
1998, Charcoal on Paper
Unique
107.3 x 91.4 cm
35
Sleeping Musician
1998, Bronze
Edition of 6
29 x 43 x 33 cm
36
37
Adam
1994, Bronze
Edition of 4
94 x 94 x 74 cm
38
39
40
(left)
The Sculptor 7
2011, Monotype
Unique
38 x 28 cm
(left)
The Sculptor 16
2011, Monotype
Unique
38 x 28 cm
(right)
The Sculptor 15
2011, Monotype
Unique
38 x 28 cm
(right)
The Sculptor 5
2011, Monotype
Unique
38 x 28 cm
41
Thoe
1993, Bronze
Unique
79 x 94 x 56 cm
42
43
Oedipus 1
2014, Plaster
for bronze
40 x 54 x 20 cm
44
45
Study for Gymnast
1984, Bronze
Edition of 6
25 x 25 x 9.5 cm
46
47
Study for Dancer
2014, Terracotta
Unique
17 x 14 x 15 cm
48
49
(left)
Study for Dancer II
2003, Charcoal on
Paper
101.5 x 81.5 cm
(previous page)
Bibi (detail)
1997, Bronze
Edition of 6
41 x 30.5 x 36 cm
50
Many of my first sculptures were made not from direct observation of the figure, but from
careful drawings from the model in the life class at the Ruskin School. This gave me room
to invent and imagine, and allowed me not to be intimidated by the physical,
three-dimensional fact of the model’s presence. Then I realised that sculpture could be
an object rather than a replication of the human figure, and for several years I virtually
stopped drawing. The sculpture was to be complete in itself without reference to the
outside world. But by the late 60s I knew I was missing something, that making could
not be divorced from seeing. In the ‘Shuttler’ and ‘Cat’s Cradle’ sculptures I rediscovered
the pleasures of looking, of exploring the endless uncertainties of near and far, of closed
and open, of continuously changing configurations. In effect, the sculptures had
become drawings.
Over the course of the 70s the work became more frontal, more frankly concerned with
articulating the onlooker’s visual field. The size of these pieces demanded more planning
before being realised in steel, and I started to draw them, actual size, in charcoal, on the
wall first and then on paper which I found in New York on rolls 6 feet by 30. I found this was
not just a useful and practical exercise, of making decisions on paper before committing to
a permanent material (actually I often made a full-scale model in plywood before
constructing in steel) --- but also the act of working on such a large scale, the feel of
charcoal and the freedom to make decisions unconstrained by gravity or engineering,
this opened up the possibilities of drawing as imagining that were a revelation. Drawing
became something physical, related to my size and reach, and to touch. The directness of
the act encouraged me to believe that sculpture itself could be more like this, that instead
of the laborious process of realising an idea through planning and construction, I could be
working directly and intuitively in the material itself. And so I started to work in plaster, at
first over crude wooden armatures. For a while I stopped drawing, and when I resumed,
drawing became an activity parallel to modeling, a way of imagining in charcoal on a scale
related to my body. This has continued to the present, I go through intense periods of
drawing between periods of working on sculpture, but rarely at the same time.
Modelling in plaster inevitably led me back to the human figure and to try and invent
a new way of representing it. This would be impossible without a better understanding of
the sculpture of the past, and to that end drawing is for me the best way of achieving that
understanding. So whenever I go to a museum I try to remember to take a sketchbook, and
spend some time with Rodin, Degas, or some anonymous Asian sculptor. The only real way
to look at sculpture is to draw it.
WILLIAM TUCKER
Sculptors’ Drawings & Works on Paper, Pangolin London, 2012
51
52
53
WILLIAM TUCKER
1935
1937
1955-58
1959-60
1962-66
1963-74
1968-70
1976
1977
1978-92
1978-82
1980-81
1986
1991
1993
1995
1996
1999
2010
Born, Cairo, Egypt (to English parents)
Family returns to England
Studies at Oxford University
Studies at Central School of Art and Design and St. Martin’s School of Art, London
Teaches at Goldsmith’s College, London
Teaches at St. Martin’s School of Art, London
Receives Gregory Fellowship in Sculpture, Leeds University
Teaches at University of West Ontario, Canada
Teaches at Nova Scotia College of Art and Design, Halifax, Canada
Teaches at New York Studio School of Painting and Sculpture, New York
Teaches at Columbia University, New York
Receives Guggenheim Fellowship
Becomes American Citizen
Receives National Endowment for the Arts Fellowship
Receives International Sculpture Centre Award for Distinction in Sculpture
Appointed Co-Chairman of the Art Department of Bard College
Receives Rodin-Moore Memorial Prize, Second Fujisankei Biennale,
Hakone Open-Air Museum, Japan
Receives commission for large-scale sculpture for Bilbao, Spain
Receives award from New York Studio School, New York
Receives Lifetime Achievement Award from the International Sculpture Centre
SELECTED SOLO EXHIBITIONS
2014
William Tucker Sculpture and Drawing, Buchmann Gallery, Lugano, Switzerland
2013
William Tucker Sculpture, Skulpturenpark Waldfrieden, Wuppertal, Germany
2013
William Tucker Sculpture, Buchmann Gallery, Berlin
2012
William Tucker Steel and Wood Constructions from the 1970s, The Margulies
Collection at the Warehouse, Miami, FL
2010
William Tucker Sculpture and Drawing, Pangolin London, London, UK
2008
Affinities, McKee Gallery, New York, NY
2006-7 William Tucker: Horses, DeCordova Museum and Sculpture Park, Lincoln, MA
2004 William Tucker, Sculpture & Drawings, Gallery Paule Anglim, San Francisco, CA
William Tucker: Recent Sculpture, McKee Gallery, New York
2003 Drawings by William Tucker, Arts on the Point, Healey Library Gallery, University of Massachusetts, Boston
2002 William Tucker: New Sculpture, McKee Gallery, New York
2001 William Tucker, Tate Gallery, Liverpool
54
2001
William Tucker, Yorkshire Sculpture Park, Wakefield, UK
1999 William Tucker: Drawings and Sculpture, Davidson College,
Davidson, North Carolina
1994-99
McKee Gallery, New York
1993 The Philosophers, Sculpture and Drawings 1989-1992,
Maak Gallery, London
1992 New Drawings, McKee Gallery, New York
1991 David McKee Gallery, New York
1989 William Tucker, The Art Museum, Florida International University, Miami, FL
Gallery Paule Anglim, San Francisco
1987 Gods: Five Recent Sculptures, Tate Gallery, London
1985 Neuberger Museum, SUNY, Purchase, NY
Pamela Auchincloss Gallery, Santa Barbara
David McKee Gallery, New York
1984 David McKee Gallery, New York
L’Isola Gallery, Rome, Italy
1980 David Reids Gallery, Sydney, Australia
Robert Elkon Gallery, New York
SELECTED GROUP SHOWS
2014
Crucible 2, Gloucester Cathedral, Gloucestershire, UK
2013
The Mythic Figure Schick Art Gallery, Skidmore College, Saratoga, NY
2012
Making Touch Matter, Museum Education Institute, New York, NY
2012
Sculptors’ Drawings & Works on Paper, Pangolin London, London, UK
2010
Crucible, Gloucester Cathedral, Gloucestershire, UK
2007 British Visions: Modern and Contemporary Sculpture and
Words on Paper, Davidson College, Davidson, North Carolina
Small Bodies, McKee Gallery, New York, NY
2006
Against the Grain: Contemporary Art from the Edward R. Broida Collection, The Museum of Modern Art, New York, NY
2004
The 179th Annual: An Invitational Exhibition of Contemporary American Art, National Academy Museum, New York, NY
2002
Sculpture, Robert Steele Gallery, New York, NY
2002
Tra-la-la: British Sculpture in the Sixties, Duveen Galleries, Tate Britain, London
2000-01 Bronze: Contemporary British Sculpture, Holland Park, London Sculpture at Goodwood, West Sussex
55
2000 - 01
The Concealed Space, British Sculpture, Associazione Piemontese Arte, Turin
2000 American Academy Invitational Exhibition of Painting & Sculpture,
The American Academy of Arts and Letters, New York
1999 House of Sculpture, Modern Art Museum of Fort Worth, Texas: travelled to Museo de Arte Contemporaneo, Monterrey, Mexico
1998 The Edward R. Broida Collection, Orlando Museum of Art, Orlando, FL
1997 Currents of Modern Sculpture, Two Sculptors, Inc., New York Reconfigurations , Pamela Auchincloss, New York, NY
1996 From Figure to Object: A Century of Sculptors’ Drawings, Frith Street
Gallery and Karsten Schubert, London
1995 Twentieth Century American Sculpture at The White House, First Ladies’ Garden, The White House, Washington, D.C.
Critical Mass, Yale University School of Art, New Haven, CT & The MAC, Dallas, TX
Contemporary British Sculpture: From Henry Moore to the 90’s,
Auditoria de Galicia, Santiago, Chile
1994
ArtPark, The Art Museum, Florida International University, Miami, FL
1994
American Academy Invitational Exhibition of Painting & Sculpture, The American Academy of Arts and Letters, NY
1991 Steel and Wood, Philippe Staib Gallery, New York
1988 From the Southern Cross: A View of World Art c. 1940-1988, Australian Biennale, Art Gallery of New South Wales
1987 New York Beijing: 22 American Artists / Works on Paper,
Beijing Art Institute, China
1986 Recent Acquisitions, Museum of Modern Art, New York, NY
Opening Exhibition, Socrates Sculpture Park, Long Island City,
1975
The Condition of Sculpture, Hayward Gallery, London, UK selected and curated by William Tucker
1972
British Sculptors ‘72, Royal Academy, London, UK
British Pavilion, XXXVI Venice Biennale, Venice, Italy
1965
The New Generation, Whitechapel Art Gallery, London, UK
1961
26 Young Sculptors, ICA, London, UK
56
SELECTED COLLECTIONS
Aberdeen Art Gallery, Scotland
Art Gallery of New South Wales, Sydney, Australia
Arts Council of Great Britain, London
British Council, London
British Museum, London
City of Bilbao, Spain
Contemporary Art Society, London
Florida International University, Miami, FL
Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum, New York
Hakone Open Air Museum, Tokyo, Japan
Hirshhorn Museum and Sculpture Garden, Washington, D.C.
Louisiana Museum of Modern Art, Humlebaek, Denmark
Martin Z. Margulies Sculpture Park, Florida International University, Miami, FL
Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York
The Museum of Modern Art, New York
National Gallery of Victoria, Melbourne, Australia
Rijksmuseum Kroller-Muller, Otterlo, Holland
Rose Art Museum, Brandeis University, Waltham, MA
Storm King Art Center, Mountainville, NY
Peter Stuyvesant Foundation, Newcastle-upon-Tyne, England
Tate Gallery, London
University of California, Los Angeles
Victoria and Albert Museum, London
Walker Art Center, Minneapolis
SELECTED PUBLICATIONS
William Tucker Sculpture & Drawing, Pangolin London, 2010
The Sculpture of William Tucker by Joy Sleeman, The Henry Moore Foundation, Lund Humphries, 2007
The Language of Sculpture by William Tucker, Thames & Hudson, London, 1974
57
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Pangolin London would like to take this opportunity to thank William Tucker for all
his hard work in bringing this exhibition together and to his wife Pamela Avril, for her
support and generous hospitality on our visits to the studio in Massachussetts.
We would also like to thank Julia Kelly for her insightful essay, Steve Russell Studios for
the photography and all the team at Pangolin Editions for their tireless dedication and
hard work.
PHOTO CREDITS
Pangolin London would like to thank the Ministry of Culture and Tourism of Calabria
for kindly allowing us to reproduce the image of the Riace Bronzes on p. 7.
Printed to coincide with the exhibition:
William Tucker: Unearthing the Figure
15th October - 29th November 2014
Designed by Pangolin London © All rights reserved
Printed in Century Gothic and Corbel
Photography: Steve Russell Studios
Printing: Healeys Printers, Suffolk
58